


Renaissance

by thatgayshipper



Category: RoadTrip (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Renaissance, F/M, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 14:55:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15665499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgayshipper/pseuds/thatgayshipper
Summary: Rye and Andy grew up together in Pisa. Just two years apart in age, they were very close. Rye’s family was wealthy, and Andy’s less so but not poor. Rye’s father died at the somewhat young age of 36, but Rye was old enough to take over as head of the household without issue. Andy’s family came on hard times, and Andy became something of a servant, best friend and closest consultant to Rye, so he had Andy attend the University of Pisa where many great minds met. Andy would get a rounded education; art, anatomy, mathematics, and a bit of botany. Each day he would come home to Rye tired but so excited for all he would learn the next day. His notes were stashed away in his quarters immediately, and as means of studying, he would tell Rye about it over dinner.Rye married at 20 Nellie, the woman his father had arranged for him to marry, but she was of higher social status and had a small dowry. She did her job though, having many children who she cared nothing for. After ten years of marriage, she died at 26 while having their seventh child. Rye was left alone at 30, and though the brothels in town may have been very inviting to other men, Rye already had a longstanding and complicated relationship with his old friend Andy.





	1. Botany

Andy ran up the seven steps to the door to Rye’s house. Another servant opened it. “Another” was a flaw in his thinking; he hardly worked for Rye but to share the knowledge Rye was paying for him to learn. He made his way to his room and emerged minutes later when a cook called that dinner was ready.

The dining room in Rye’s house was large and candle lit. It easily fit a table big enough for Rye and his wife and their five children and Andy. Rye, the senior male in the house since his father died when Rye was sixteen, sat at one end with Andy to his right. On the other end of the table sat Rye’s wife Nellie, and the children filled all the seats between them. Servants helped the  younger children to eat. Even the youngest, a breastfeeding newborn, was eating, fed not by her mother but by a servant who had recently lost her own child.

The meal looked delicious; corn, rice, red bell peppers and chicken, all seasoned with spices straight off the boat from Asia.

Rye and Andy talked as usual over the rest, but tonight the bigger kids, 6 and 7 year old Anna and Dean were making too much noise talking. 

“Dean,” Rye said, raising his voice at his oldest.

His gaze then turned to the servant nearest him, a girl of 12 who spent her days caring for the older children. “Could you take some time out of fattening up my progeny to teach them manners?” The girl bowed her head and attended to the kids. 

As Rye turned his eyes back to Andy, they caught his wife’s scowling face briefly. The way he wanted kids as any man did and didn’t care for them, nor her, upset her. He knew this though, and ignored her. “What plant did you study today?”

Andy sprung into the explanation. “It was a couple different plants actually. There were various wildflowers from the island Crete. They were so beautiful; I’ll have to paint them for you.”

”Of course, babe. Now tell me more about them.”

“It’s the flowers that are the interesting part. It doesn’t take any more than eyes to know that.” Rye smiled at his friend in understanding. “Flowers can look very different but they seem to all have the same parts. There’s the colorful petals and the part that will turn into seeds and two parts that seem to be involved in making more plants.” Rye nodded along, and Andy kept explaining. “One makes pollen that can spread to other plants or go to this sticky part which then makes fruit and seeds for new plants.”

”If they all have the same parts, why don’t I have wheat-corn growing in my fields? Instead I have wheat and corn as two separate plants,” Rye said, trying to puzzle Andy.

Andy knew the answer though. “Right, so it could be that the parts just never come into contact with each other, but there are bees and other bugs that go to both plants, so that hypothesis is not likely. More likely the parts in different plants are just different enough that they can’t form an intermediate form of offspring.” 

“Interesting,” Rye said seeing as Andy seemed to be done talking, “but I have another question.” Andy looked at Rye, blue eyes wide and waiting. “Does it have to be one plant’s pollen and ... sticky part-“

”Stigma, I believe they called it,” Andy cut in remembering.”

”Does it it have to be pollen and stigma or would two plants’ pollen or stigma work?”

”I think he said it has to be pollen and stigma.”

”Like people then?” The family had finished eating and there was a lull in the conversation just then, but Rye continued rather than excuse them. “Like how you and I cannot bear children, but  _she_ and I can,” Rye finished. 

The room was silent. Andy blushed with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe Rye had said such a thing in front of the whole family. Meanwhile, Nellie stared daggers at her husband, and the servants merely looked down as they knew they had heard something they shouldn’t. The bigger kids stared too, catching on that they too heard something they shouldn’t. Two year old Kenzie cried out, breaking the silence.

”You’re all dismissed,” Rye yelled over the sound of his crying child. They all scattered, spouse and children and servants alike, but Rye grabbed Andy’s arm when he too tried to get up. “Stay,” he said calmly. “Explain it to me.”

Rye’s hand stayed on Andy’s arm, and he was giving him bedroom eyes. Andy tried to calm himself so his cheeks weren’t so pink and his voice would not shake. He only managered a whisper. “I suppose. They didn’t explain it that way, but I will ask the professor.”

Rye smiled, the lesson for the day over. “Should we head to the bedroom, now?” he suggested. “We might not be able to have kids, but it’s so much better than sleeping with someone who never even liked me... let alone love.”

The candlelight caught Rye’s eyes and the reflected light danced in them for a moment before Andy could collect his thoughts. Rye was almost too much for Andy to say no to, but one of them had to be sensible. Andy now bowed his head like the servants had.

“You should go to your wife, for the sake of your relationship and your reputation in this house and in the town.”

Rye had to join his wife, but he could not leave his love so easily. He stood, stepped closer, leaned over the table’s edge, and hooked a finger under Andy’s chin, pulling it up to the same level as his own face. “I love you.”

Andy gave in and looked him in the eyes. “I love you too,” he answered and pecked Rye on the lips. Rye lingered there another moment, and they had a proper kiss before he pulled away.

As Rye began walking towards the open door out of the dining room, he heard outside it the sound of scurrying feet, whether servants’ or children’s he could not tell. No one was there when he reached the door.

It was pointless anyway. He had outed his own sinful relationship. All he could hope for was a bit of loyalty within his household.

As Rye headed to the room he too rarely shared with his wife, Andy stood and began clearing the table. The clattering plates attracted the cook, who began helping pick up the dirtied plates. “I’ll take those, sir,” she said. She shouldn’t call him sir. She must have heard the gossip moments before. He accepted her offer and piled the plates high in her arms. She headed to the door that came in from the kitchen but turned before leaving through it. “Don’t think we’re all against you and him. I’ll keep the staff quiet if I can.”

Andy thanked her and left. It was all he could do. In his room once again, he quickly got ready for bed and climbed in. Tomorrow would bring another exciting day of classes, but hopefully not as exciting as today’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a lot of research so this could be somewhat historically accurate, so I hope you enjoyed and learned something. Another chapter?


	2. Sculpture Pt. 1

It was the dead of summer, quite possibly the hottest day if professor Galilei’s water thermometer was right. Rye had taken his family to swim in the Arno to cool off. Food was packed, and Rye, his wife, the children, and several servants were off to walk the few miles to the river’s shores. They had already been swimming for some hours, tanned and no doubt sweaty, when Andy could at last join them.

Andy was covered in a fine white dust leaving the college and was grateful for the chance to wash the marble bits off himself.

”You’re a mess, my friend,” Rye called as Andy jogged up. Rye ogled Andy; he looked even paler than usual.

”And I’ll tell you why in just a minute,” and with that he stripped off his shirt and pants leaving his undergarments only. He leaned too close doing so, and Rye wanted to kiss him. He was off though, diving into the water already. He emerged, still so pale in comparison to Rye’s children splashing water around him.

Rye eyed Andy. He didn’t have to ask Andy what he’d learned today. The dust told him they had began carving marble sculptures. He’d humor Andy telling him how it’s done, but he knew what would be far better for studying this. 

After climbing and heading to the tree Rye and Nellie were under, Andy took a seat beside Rye, the opposite side as Rye’s once again pregnant wife. (It’s a good thing too, as Kenzie had caught a nasty cough and likely wouldn’t make it much longer.)

 “So,” Andy said, slicking his hair back to get some of the water out, “today we started carving sculptures. It starts small, but soon I’ll be able to try and make a person.”

”Good, ‘cause I was thinking,” Rye eyed Andy’s torso, freckled, sexy and dripping wet still, “that you could carve me.”

Andy nodded.

”Naked.”

With that Nellie landed a blow to Rye’s stomach that knocked the wind out of him.

”Kids!” Nellie yelled, standing up. They paid her no mind. “Could you collect my children? We’re going home,” she said to the nearest servant.

The children were gathered, wrapped in towels and made to head back to their house with their mother.

 Andy held Rye as he coughed and caught his breath. “You shouldn’t say such things. What would be said around town if she left while pregnant?” Andy sighed. “I love you, but this is not okay.”

Rye knew. “I love you too. You will still sculpt me, won’t you?” Rye asked.

Andy looked Rye in his eyes, shining in the sunlight, and carefree as ever. “When everything calms down at home... yes.”

Andy helped Rye up, and they did their best not to hold hands as they followed the others back. The backs of their hands brushed anyway and as the sun set on the water behind them, Andy understood Rye’s carelessness. Everything was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t read the next chapter if you mind blood.


	3. Sculpture Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I repeat: don’t read this if blood bothers you.

Rye was standing butt naked in the courtyard of his house, dripping with wheat oil to protect him from the November sun beating down on him, when a servant came up, shielding her eyes from seeing her master’s body. “Sirs, I’m sorry to bother you, but Ms. Nellie needs you in her room. She’s giving birth.” The servant girl scurried off again, long, brown hair flowing beautifully behind her. Andy’s eyes stayed on Rye, though he did set down his sculpting tools. Rye’s eyes followed the girl if only for the transition from the tranquil time he’d been having with Andy to the stress of his wife giving birth.

Rye covered himself up, putting pants back on and taking Andy’s hand in his as they headed to the bedroom that was really only Nellie’s nowadays.

Nellie laid there on the bed, a scream erupting from her already sweaty face as Rye and Andy entered the room, another contraction starting. Blood was everywhere, more than any of the previous kids, Rye thought, maybe more than all the rest combined. 

Something is wrong. 

“Call for a physician,” Andy whispered, perhaps feint from all the blood.

”Has anyone called for a physician?” Rye said louder.

“The physician refused because you were not with your wife for the birth of her last child.”

”OUR last child,” Rye clarified. 

“You shut up, Ryan!” Nellie yelled from the bed. “This is your fault and you know it!”

”Nel-“ Andy tried.

Nellie was breathing heavily, the contraction over for now, but she was as fiery as ever. “And yours. Of course it’s your fault, dragging my husband off at every chance since you were just boys to hook up with him! Of course he would think he could love you!” She was getting paler by the second, and she screamed again as another contraction began.

The midwife stood at the foot of the bed, and lifted the blanket over Nellie to check on the progress. “You can do it, Nellie. It’s time to push.”

Andy nudged Rye towards his wife. He took the hint and tried to take her hand. She batted it away and grabbed his arm, squeezing so tight, he knew he’d bleed. For all Nellie was bleeding, he knew he could take this small amount.

”Push!” He heard from the end of the bed, “Tell her, help her to push!!”

The hand holding his arm had gone slack though. She had lost too much blood. Rye pulled his eyes off his wife. They found Andy and told of Rye’s helplessness.

Andy was at Rye’s side in a moment, checking her pulse. “She’s alive, but only barely. Is there anything we can do?”

The midwife looked under the blanket again. The baby was crowning but would die if it stayed there too long. “Either she wakes up and they both live, or we do what we have to so the baby lives.

The room full of people burst into life, trying to save the woman of the house. Sweat was mopped from her brow, blood was sopped up, and Andy kept checking Nellie’s heart rate. It wasn’t recovering. She stopped breathing as the midwife called, “The baby can’t take much more of this.”

Rye, silent all this time, finally found his voice. “Let’s get her out.”

It was a nasty process, so much more bloody than before even, but the baby was a perfectly healthy little girl. Rye held her in his arms, and Andy hugged them both, a new era starting in their house.


	4. Busts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In case you skipped the last chapter (I don’t blame you),
> 
> Nellie died giving birth to her’s and Rye’s daughter.

It was winter as Andy carved the bust that would adorn Nellie’s grave. The bust for Rye’s passed daughter Kenzie had already been in place for over a year when Nellie died.

Andy loved Rye still, of course, and Rye loved Andy. Hard times would only bring them closer, but this was the time for showing respect to the dead. Andy stayed away from the widowed Rye and spent every spare moment working on the bust of Nellie.

It took months, not that Andy tried speeding it along. It was Nellie’s last wish that they not be together anyway, and though it couldn’t last for the sake of Rye’s and Andy’s own happiness, he thought her wish should be honored at least for a short time.

Nevertheless, these were dark times in the Beaumont house. Meals were sat with an empty chair opposite Rye, and all the kids were fairly quiet. Andy still spoke of what he learned, it was his duty as Rye was paying for him to learn, but the conversation never hinted at love, never anything beyond educational interest and financial partnership.

But when Baby Allie cried out, done with her feeding, both Andy and Rye rushed to hold her. 9 and 10 year old Anna and Dean could see the difference in their father immediately. He cared for one of his children in a way he never had before.

The two stayed quiet as the child was rocked and cradled in her two fathers’ arms.

They were dark times but the sun would come out.


	5. The Oil Painting

Summer arrived again and Rye could hold Andy again without the guilt of disrespecting his long dead wife. 

After months of virtually ignoring their past together, their bond returned due to their love for Allie. No longer was it a servant’s duty to take care of the nightly diaper changes and midnight feedings. Rye and Andy took turns getting up and caring for her.

The servant and mother who provided them with milk for the baby began to feel useless. She worried for her job as soon as the baby stopped nursing.

Rye overheard her saying this in whispers to another of the servants one evening. At dinner he called her over and asked her to sit at the table with his family.

She hesitantly took the seat and accepted the plate made for her. “Tara,” Rye said. She didn’t know the head of the house even knew her name. “I don’t want you to think that you will be out of work simply because there won’t be any more small children to breastfeed. They still need rearing, and I would love it if you continued to work in my household.”

A smile spread across Tara’s face. “Yes, sir.”

Rye smiled also, taking Andy’s left hand in his right. “Now that is settled, everyone dig in!”

Tara was the last to take a bite, as it was only proper, but the staffing was not the only change. 

When there was nothing but love in the heart of the head of the household, love spilled out into everything he did. 

His children, who previously only knew what it meant to be cared for, started feeling the love too. Rye called each by name, knew what they liked and spent time with them all.

Andy felt a contentment he never had before. He didn’t have to keep his relationship with Rye a secret, and the town didn’t excommunicate them for it.

Little Allie knew love most of all though. Andy had painted a beautiful mess of colors he claimed was the flowers of Crete, but her little eyes only saw the love he put into it, perfecting it, hanging it on her wall for a week only to take it down and put it back up looking completely different weeks later. She slept between her dads when she’d had nightmares and when she just missed them. She was cradled, kissed, hugged and loved by both because she was so clearly theirs. And they were so clearly hers too.


End file.
